


Promises to Keep

by Sheeana



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M, Mass Effect 3, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8396446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheeana/pseuds/Sheeana
Summary: After the destruction of the Reapers, Garrus waits.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vaultfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultfox/gifts).



Come back alive, he'd said. No, _ordered_. On Palaven it would have been enough to get him thrown in a cell and then dragged before a tribunal. 

He didn't give a damn.

Not when Shepard was lying there, pale and breathing too slowly. Not when Palaven was probably still burning. Not when the ruins of Shepard's planet were still smoking around them. Not when so many of their friends and allies were dead, missing, never coming back.

Not when the only thing Garrus could think was the most selfish thought he'd ever had:

They'd won. The Reapers were dead. But if Shepard didn't wake up, then the price was too damn high.

He twisted his fingers around and around in his lap, a nervous gesture that he didn't remember starting and couldn't consider stopping. It felt like he'd been sitting there staring down at Shepard for his entire life. His whole world had narrowed to this single thing, this all-consuming fear. Every other tense, anxious moment in his life felt trivial compared to this. _Everything_ felt trivial compared to this. He choked on the bitterness of it.

And then Shepard was opening his eyes for the first time since the Normandy limped back to Earth, and Garrus started breathing again.

"Hey, Garrus," Shepard said weakly, like none of this ever happened. Like he wasn't beaten up and worn ragged and lying in a makeshift hospital bed in a shattered, ravaged city. Like he hadn't barely clung to life for a week before Chakwas's expressions started to change from grim to tentatively hopeful. Like he hadn't given Garrus a sun and then mercilessly torn it right out of the sky in front of him.

"You ever pull that shit again, I'm out," Garrus snapped. The worst part wasn't that he didn't mean it, couldn't mean it. The worst part was that Shepard knew it.

"I pull that again, you do whatever you need to," Shepard said. He was quiet, but he had that expression on his face - the one where he meant every word he was saying as if it was the absolute truth, the one that no one could look at and fail to believe in. Garrus was already lost to it before Shepard even finished talking. "I'll have your back."

"Shepard," Garrus said wearily. "... John."

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

"But you won't wipe that Archangel look off your face until I apologize?"

"Hell, Shepard, I thought you were dead. We all-" Garrus's voice trembled for a moment. Shepard reached out and laid a hand over his, giving him the only measure of reassurance he could. "-I should have been there."

"You know I had no choice."

And yeah, Garrus knew that. He'd been too badly hurt in the final run toward the beam. He wouldn't have made it much further. He would have been a liability. Knowing that didn't make it any easier to swallow.

"Just don't- don't ever do that again." And there he was, giving Shepard another order. He was making a habit of it. But the tension was beginning to ease, from his voice and his chest, so he didn't try to soften it. He just let it stand.

"Yes, sir," Shepard said, and he gave a tired, weak salute. Then his hand fell back to the sheets, and he blinked slowly, as if struggling to stay awake. "... Can't keep my eyes open," he admitted. 

"So go to sleep. I have your back," Garrus said softly. He didn't need to wonder if Shepard recognized the affection thrumming in his voice- he could see it answered in the slight slant of Shepard's eyebrow, the tired quirk of his lips, the twitch of his hand. He knew exactly where they stood with each other now. And maybe, with time, all those stupid things they'd promised to each other in the heat of the moment, when they'd been utterly sure they were about to die - retirement and companionship and shooting contests on a tropical beach - could be more than just wartime comforts. Maybe they could be real.

"I know you do," Shepard echoed. His eyes fell shut, and his chest began to rise and fall more slowly. This time, the quiet sound of Shepard's breathing was bearable. It was almost peaceful. Garrus secured his hold on Shepard's hand and settled in to wait again. 


End file.
